Opportunities
by Greyleaf
Summary: Sarah's back. Finch suprises Reese. Non-slash.


Opportunities

Reese placed Finch's cup of tea next to him on the desk and sat in the chair that was next to the desk, facing him. Reese sipped his coffee, waiting. Finally he asked, "Well, Finch? What does the machine have for us today?"

Finch looked up from the keyboard. Though Reese knew that Finch tried to keep his expression neutral, they had been working together long enough that Reese was beginning to pick up on little signs of Finch's emotions. He though he could discern a little agitation. Finch got up from the desk and, with quick steps, walked over to the glass wall and removed a photo.

"Sean Williams, aged 19, has had some brushes with the law." Finch handed the photo to Reese. The image, grainy as were most of the photos Finch pulled from surveillance cameras, was of a young white male, short hair, caught in the act of putting on sunglasses. "Until recently, he appeared to have links with a new gang that's been trying to carve out a territory for itself."

Reese looked up from the photo. "Until recently? Something changed?"

"Yes. He contacted a community service group that has been augmenting the anti-gang task force, apparently wanting to 'turn over a new leaf'. They've assigned him to a councilor and gotten him a part-time job. Unfortunately, I can't find any information on where he's living."

Reese looked at the photo again. "So, maybe his former gang has objections to his leaving."

"Probably." Finch walked back to the desk and resumed his seat. "Last year a member of another gang who tried to leave was found dead." Finch looked up at Reese, "Shot execution style."

"Where is Sean working?"

Finch hesitated. "That's the problem."

"Why?"

"He's gotten a job at Jesus Ortega's Body Shop."

"Ortega's?" Reese was surprised. "The guy Sarah Johnson shares the garage with?"

"Yes." Finch watched Reese in silence, waiting for his response.

Reese put the photo on Finch's desk. "I'll contact Sarah first, away from the garage. Better to let her know I might be looking around rather than have it cause an…awkward moment." Reese looked at Finch. "She may have some knowledge of this Sean."

Finch shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable. "I don't know about getting her involved."

"I'll try to keep her out of it as much as possible, Finch. But, she'd likely see me at some point."

Finch, still looking at Reese, gave a short nod, acknowledging the reasoning.

Reese asked, "Do we still have a track on her cell phone?"

Finch turned back to the computer, tapping the keys. Reese got up and looked over Finch's shoulder. "She appears to be at a truck stop." Finch announced. "She's been there awhile. There's a coffee shop. Maybe she's meeting someone there."

Reese headed for the exit, putting the earpiece for his phone in as he went. "Let me know if she leaves."

Finch was able to provide the make, model and plate number of Sarah's car so when Reese pulled in to the truck stop parking lot he was able to find it. He parked the motorcycle next to the grey sedan, putting it between him and the coffee shop. He pulled off his helmet and looked around. It wasn't a large truck stop, or a very busy one. There were two tractor-trailer rigs filling up at the pumps, a few pickups parked at the truck stop store. The coffee shop was adjacent. Reese was still debating with himself as to whether he should go in to find Sarah, when she saved him the trouble.

The restaurant's double glass doors opened and Sarah came out into the sunlight, shading her eyes against the glare. She was followed by a man close to her age, his salt and pepper hair casually groomed. Behind him followed two younger men and the doors swung closed behind them. They all were dressed similarly, jeans, t-shirts. Sarah wore a plaid shirt over her t-shirt, untucked, sleeves rolled up. Their conversation was animated, smiles and nods all around. As the group moved away from the doors to let someone else into the coffee shop, Sarah glanced towards her car and spotted Reese. She held his gaze briefly and turned back to the group, still smiling. She pulled her keys from a pocket and, after giving a last wave, headed toward her car.

Reese watched her, still sitting on the bike. When she got close, he nodded at her.

"Hey, John," she said in greeting and smiling warmly. "I won't _even _ask how you found me." She leaned against her car, hands partially in her front pockets.

Reese smiled a little in return. He nodded in the direction of the restaurant and the men she'd just left. "Meeting old friends?"

"Yeah. From the transportation company. We get together every couple of months or so. Relive old stories." She looked at Reese. "So, what's up? I'm guessing this isn't a social call."

Reese decided to get to the point. "We have some information on one of the people at the Body Shop. He's gotten involved in something."

Sarah's eyes widened and she straightened up. "Chuy?"

Reese shook his head briefly. "No, not Chuy. One of his employees."

Sarah's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sean, the new guy." It was not a question.

Reese raised an eyebrow and asked, "You know something about him?"

Sarah leaned back against the car, arms crossed. "Well, no, nothing definitive. Maybe it's just a feeling. But, he's not one of Chuy's usual 'strays'. He doesn't really fit in."

Reese shifted his hold on the helmet. "Strays?"

"Chuy's always helping out returning vets; he's very involved in a couple of groups that assist them, get them back on their feet, find them jobs."

"At the shop."

"Some. You get to know them, recognize the traits. What they talk about, certain expressions they use. Sean's not a vet. I don't know. It's not his age; hell, they're _all _young. And Sean's definitely got issues of some sort. But, he's not one of the walking wounded like some of the others." Reese had the feeling Sarah was looking pointedly at him, but he chose to ignore it. "I've even seen Chuy looking at him, watching. Almost like he doesn't trust him."

Reese frowned slightly. "If he doesn't trust him, why did he hire him? There's a lot of expensive tools and equipment in that shop."

Sarah shook her head. "I don't know."

Reese looked at her. "Could you find out?"

Sarah's lips tightened. "Chuy and I are friends, but we stay out of each other's business. If I start asking questions about one of his employees, it'll raise all sorts of red flags."

Reese's look was direct. "Think of all the red flags that would go up if I have to show up and start asking questions."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. After a pause, she said, "Well," her mouth quirked a little, "When you put it that way, I guess I could see what I can find out." Sarah returned Reese's gaze, her turn to be direct. "What's this kid mixed up in anyway?"

Reese hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He thought it best that she not know about the probability that Sean's former gang might be after him. "We're not sure. But, we think it's serious."

"Serious? 'Serious' the way my…situation… was 'serious'?"

Another pause. "Yes."

"Great," Sarah ran a hand through her hair, looking at the ground at her feet. "Okay, so, how do you want to do this?" She looked back up at Reese. "You and whosit, 'Mystery Voice', want to listen in?"

Finch spoke in Reese's ear. "John, are you sure you want to do it this way? I'm not comfortable bringing Sarah into this."

Reese glanced at Sarah, then turned slightly away from her, his hand briefly touching his earpiece. "We could hardly avoid bringing her in, Finch, unless you've been able to get any more information on Sean. Having Sarah get what she can could save us a lot of time. Besides, she's already on the scene. It's not as if we're asking her to infiltrate the gang. She should be perfectly safe."

"Famous last words, Mr. Reese." Finch replied. There was a pause. "If you think this is best, then let's listen in."

Reese turned back to Sarah, still leaning against the car, watching him.

"So, what's the word?"

"We'll listen in. Any idea when you'll be able to talk to Chuy?"

"This afternoon, probably. It's usually quiet this time of month. Chuy and I usually spend the afternoon shooting the breeze," Sarah said. "Politics, the price of gas," her smile was impish, "existentialism. You know. The usual stuff."

Reese hid his smile, looking down at his helmet, getting it ready to put back on. "Good. His office or yours?"

"His."

"We'll send you a number to call when you're ready. Just put your phone where it can pick up the conversation." Sarah nodded. Reese put the helmet on, preparing to leave. Sarah stepped forward and placed a hand on Reese's arm, stopping him from starting up the bike. Reese's visor was still up and he could see the concern in her eyes and the slight furrow between her brows.

"John, whatever mess that kid Sean is mixed up in? Please don't let it spill over onto Chuy." Sarah's voice was quiet, but there was some steel in it. "He's family to me."

Reese held Sarah's gaze for a moment, then nodded. She stepped back and he lowered his visor, started up the motorcycle and rode out of the parking lot.

"Everybody there?" Sarah's voice came over the speakers. Reese took a seat next to Finch, having just put his phone in the docking station.

"Yes, Sarah, we're here." Reese could tell from Finch's even more-than-usual rigid posture that he, Finch, was still not sold on having Sarah do the legwork for them. However, he seemed resigned to it.

Sarah's voice again. "I'm using the earpiece for my phone, as I usually do when I visit Chuy. I don't know how good his hearing is."

"Understood." Reese leaned forward and muted the phone then settled back in his chair. Reese knew, from his visit to Sarah's a few weeks before, that Sarah would be working her way from her office, past her two limos and over to where Chuy's Body Shop took up most of the rest of the ground floor business. The muted din of the work area became louder, men's voices becoming distinct from each other, punctuated by the sound of pneumatic tools in use. A couple of voices called out and Sarah responded in kind, calling the men by their names.

Chuy's office mirrored Sarah's, taking up the opposite corner of the shop, doors and windows looking out over the workspace. There was a quick knock on a door and Sarah's "Hey Chuy. I brought your mocha."

A gravelly voice greeted her warmly, "Hey, amiga, how's it goin'?" The door closed. "How'd the breakfast go?" Metal chair legs scraped over the concrete floor; a creak as Sarah settled on the chair.

"Oh, you know, the usual," Sarah said. "The same guys, the same stories, the same jokes."

"Yeah? Any of them hit on you?" Chuy's voice was teasing. "How about that Dave guy? I saw him watching you at the picnic last year. I figured for sure he'd have made a move by now."

"Yeah, yeah. You always ask that. C'mon, Chuy. Most of them are boys. Kids."

"Dave's not."

"No, but I think his interests have turned elsewhere. Besides, I keep expecting you and Maria to try to fix me up with one of your cousins or someone. How come you haven't?"

"Eh," Chuy said disgustedly. "All the single ones are _pendejos."_

Sarah laughed. "Well, amigo, I've always trusted your judge of character."

Chuy chuckled, but it seemed a little halfhearted. There was a pause.

"What?" Sarah's voice was softer. "You know, that's not the first time I've seen you look at that new kid that way," Sarah said. "What's the story there?"

In the break in the conversation, the sounds of the shop came through.

Sarah spoke again. "C'mon, Chuy. It's obvious he doesn't fit in with the others. Hell, I'm an old, white, civilian woman and I can tell that." Chuy snorted. "Why did you hire this kid; Sean is it?"

"I did it as a favor," Chuy's voice dripped regret.

"To whom?"

"You know that guy that works with the gang reformers?"

"Bill, right? Yeah."

"Well, this kid Sean is one of his. Supposed to be ex-gang. Bill asked if I could give him some sort of job for a few weeks 'til they get him settled into his new life."

"And you couldn't say no."

The desk chair squeaked as its occupant shifted.

"And I couldn't say no."

"Why didn't Bill take him in? He works at that shipping company, right? He couldn't find something for him there?"

"I asked the same thing. Bill's boss didn't want an ex-gang banger on the premises."

"How long is Sean supposed to be here?"

"Probably another week."

"You don't sound too happy about that. Isn't this a good thing? Helping these kids?"

"Yeah. I guess. He seems like a good kid…"

At this moment, there was a knock on the door and the sound of it opening. Chuy's voice said "S'up Sean?"

A younger voice spoke. "Hey, Mr. Ortega. I just wanted to remind you that I've got that …meeting today."

Chuy sounded distracted. "Oh, right. What time was that?"

"At three. It'll take me a little while to walk there. So, I need to leave in about an hour."

"Right. Sure, go ahead and leave when you need to; just make sure you get those tools put away."

"Sure Mr. Ortega." Sean's voice faded and the door closed.

There was a brief silence and then Chuy spoke.

"What?"

"I don't know, Chuy. Something about that kid. He seems a little…jumpy."

"Well, he'll be gone soon."

"As you say. So, he's got an appointment?"

"The reform group has a place where the kids go to get counseling. Sean's got a meeting today. I'd forgotten. Anyway, since he's got no wheels of his own, he gets everywhere on foot or by bus."

"Where's he going?" Sarah was saying and Reese got a bad feeling. "I don't have any clients this afternoon. I could take him."

Both Reese and Finch shifted forward and said, almost in unison, "No!" as if their will would be felt over the muted line. If the gang was after Sean, the last thing they needed was for Sarah to end up in the crosshairs as well. But Chuy unwittingly saved the situation.

"Thanks, amiga, but Bill says these kids have to learn to do without all of the things the gangs provided for them, rides included."

Sarah said, "Makes sense, I guess."

Reese and Finch relaxed somewhat back into their chairs.

Chuy interrupted their discussion, "Ai. 'Scuse me, Sarah. I just remembered something I need to tell Sean." The desk chair rolled as Chuy got up and went out into the shop.

Sarah voice spoke to them. "Okay, gentlemen. Did you get what you needed?"

Finch unmuted the phone. "Yes, Ms. Johnson. Thank you."

Sarah sighed. "Please, Mystery Voice. Call me Sarah. 'Ms. Johnson' sounds like I'm a school teacher."

Reese looked at Finch who, surprisingly, looked a little taken aback. Finch blinked several times before responding.

"All right, Sarah." Finch paused. "Then I guess you can call me Finch."

Reese knew he was failing to keep his expression nonchalant. Fortunately, Finch's attention was on the phone as he waited for Sarah's response, which came after a moment.

"Thanks, Finch. Seriously. I appreciate it. Makes things a little less…Twilight Zone-ish."

"Your welcome, Sarah."

Reese wasn't sure, but he thought Finch seemed pleased. He mentally shook himself, deciding that this was probably a good time to end the conversation with Sarah when they heard Chuy come back into the office.

"Sorry, amiga. I remembered something I needed to tell Sean about his meeting this afternoon."

"Oh?" Sarah sounded in good humor and not really paying attention, but Reese thought he heard a little concern in Chuy's tone.

"You know, it must take real _cojones _to leave a gang."

"How so?"

"Well, the gang usually takes objection. They've been known to hunt down the defectors."

"What?"

Chuy must have realized that he may have said too much because his next words sounded like backtracking.

"Well, it doesn't happen very often." Inwardly, Reese winced, feeling for Chuy.

Sarah's voice had that steel in it again. "You're saying that there could be someone gunning for this kid?"

Chuy wisely chose not to answer.

Sarah sighed. "What was Bill thinking?'

"Amiga, nothing will happen."

"Do your employees know?"

"No. The fewer people who know the better."

"Does Maria know?"

"God, no. She'd have my head."

"More like another part of your anatomy." Sarah sounded resigned. "Well, I've got some bookkeeping to do." Metal chair legs scraped across the floor. "_Cuidate_, amigo."

Reese and Finch heard Sarah's rapid steps as she left Chuy's office. She must have made good time.

"John, you still there?"

"Yes."

"I'm guessing you already knew this?"

"About the possibility that Sean's former gang would try to kill him?" Reese asked. "Yes."

Reese waited, expecting a verbal explosion or at the least recriminations. All he heard was a shaky intake of breath.

"Sarah, we knew that Sean was mixed up in something. We had no way of contacting him except through his job there at Chuy's. Because of the information you were able to get for us, we have a chance of preventing something …bad."

Sarah said softly, "The way you did for me."

"Yes."

There was a lengthy pause, long enough that Reese wondered if Sarah was still on the line. He looked at Finch who gave a little shrug.

"Sarah?"

"Yes; I'm sorry John. Just refocusing my perspective. I should know to trust you. Both of you." She took another deep breath. "So, anything else I can do to help?"

Finch chose to answer. "No, Sarah. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And, gentlemen? I'd like to know how everything turns out. If you can let me know, of course." Then Sarah hung up.

Reese looked at Finch.

"So," Finch asked, "what's the next step?"

"I think it might be time to contact Sean. I'll follow him and see if I can make that happen." Reese got up and retrieved his phone and headed for the door. "Let's hope we can neutralize the danger and do so well away from Chuy's shop. Or you may regret having given Sarah your name."

Sean's meeting took place in an old brick building that served as a meeting hall for several Service Organizations, decals for which decorated the glass door. Sean's meeting was remarkably short. Reese had barely got settled in at the coffee and pastry shop across the street, contacting Finch to say that he'd call him back when he had something, when Sean reappeared. Reese started to head for the coffee shop door when he realized that Sean was headed his direction. In fact, Sean came in to the coffee shop, pausing for a moment to look around. He then headed for the counter, bought a cup of coffee and moved to an empty table in the back of the shop, sitting so he could watch the door. Reese, still on his feet, moved to the back as well, pretending to read the notices and advertisements posted on the community bulletin board on the wall next to the unisex restrooms. Sean appeared to be waiting for someone, taking small sips from his paper cup, his attention on the door, occasionally checking the time on his phone. After about ten minutes Reese saw Sean straighten up, looking toward the door. Two young men walked in, looking around. One of them spotted Sean and nudged the other, using his chin to point toward Sean. The first one grabbed a sports drink and went to the counter while the second headed back to Sean's table. Both of the newcomers were maybe a couple of years older than Sean, both wore black jeans and black t-shirts, no jewelry, no insignia. The one that went to Sean's table first pulled a stool around next to Sean, sitting down with out a word. The other, having purchased his drink, grabbed a stool from another table, pointedly ignoring the glares of the older couple sitting there, who then chose to leave. Reese moved to the newly vacated table as the second youth sat, blocking Sean from a quick exit.

Sean nodded his head once, greeting the second young man, but there was no friendship in the gesture or his voice.

"Eddie," Sean said, "What's up? Did Joey agree?"

Eddie opened the bottle, smirking. "Well, Sean, that's what we're hear to discuss. Right, Jerry?" Jerry, apparently a man of few words or maybe vocabulary, just grunted.

Sean looked at John and then back to Eddie. "Well, what did Joey say?"

Eddie continued to smirk and took a swallow of his drink, looking at Sean.

Sean lowered his voice "Dammit, Eddie, quit jerking me around. I'm not here to play games with you. Did Joey agree to the swap or not?"

Eddie's smirk became tight lipped, eyes narrowing. "Listen, Sean, you're lucky to be walking around with your balls still attached." Jerry snickered but Eddie shot him a glance and it stopped. "I'm gonna cut this short 'cause being near you makes me want to puke." Eddie leaned forward, voice dropping even more. Reese had to strain to hear. "Yeah, Joey's agreed. You have your sorry ass at the bridge tonight at eleven. No cops, no backup." Eddie leaned back. With a humorless smile he said, "Suze is looking forward to seeing you."

Sean, silently watching Eddie's face, flushed a little. "How is she?" His voice was barely audible.

Eddie shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Haven't seen much of her. Joey's been keeping her locked up. In case she tries to get away."

Sean gripped his paper cup. "He better not have hurt her."

Eddie's voice was taunting. "She's gotta be in a lot better shape than you'll be after Joey gets done with you."

Sean was silent for a while, looking down at his cup. "Okay. Eleven tonight."

Eddie signaled Jerry and they both got up and walked out. Reese watched Sean for a moment, then checked to make sure Eddie and Jerry weren't still in sight. He went over and sat down on one of the stools next to Sean. In a neutral tone he asked, "Okay if I sit here?" Sean stirred himself and looked up. There were plenty of empty tables, but Sean didn't seem to notice. He started to get up, still silent.

Reese said, "Don't go, Sean. Let's talk about this …meeting… you have with Joey and his gang tonight."

Sean finally seemed to focus on Reese as his words sunk in. His eyes widened slightly, looking at Reese. "What do you know about it?" His voice shook a little. "You a cop?" Sean looked about ready to bolt. Reese chose his next words carefully.

"No, but I'm someone who can help. I heard your conversation with Eddie. I know you used to belong to a gang. I'm guessing it was Joey's." Sean nodded, looking as if he were in shock. Reese tried to gage Sean's state of mind. If he took the wrong tack, he'd loose his chance to help. "You left the gang." Sean nodded again. Reese paused. "Who is Suze? Your girlfriend?" Sean's hands started to shake, the plastic lid on the cup the only thing keeping the coffee from sloshing on to the table. Reese grasped one of Sean's wrists, steadying it. He leaned forward slightly. "I can help, Sean. Tell me about what's supposed to happen at eleven."

"I thought the gang was a good thing. Something to belong to. Believe in." Sean's voice was a mix of disillusion and contempt. "I'd thought I'd found people to respect and trust."

Reese looked at Sean with empathy. "So, you left. They …took exception. Now they're holding your girlfriend?"

Sean nodded. "It never occurred to me that they'd take it out on her."

"Why didn't you go to the police?"

Sean hesitated. "I know that would be the best thing, but," Sean looked up at Reese. "See, Suze is a runaway." Reese leaned back, mentally sighing. He knew where this was going. Sean continued, anxious to make his point. "She turns 18 in three weeks. If the cops rescue her, they'll turn her over to her guardian."

"And if she can stay hidden for another twenty-one days, they can't." Reese finished for him. Reese was trying to put himself in Sean's place, but he was having trouble remembering being that young and naïve. "You were going to trade yourself for her." Reese leaned forward. "You know these people, Sean. What makes you think they'd let her go?"

Sean, eyes wide, searched Reese's face, as if looking for some light in the dark picture Reese was painting. Finding none, he sagged. His voice was barely audible. "I hoped. It was all I could do."

Reese decided that the best tactic would be to get Suze away from Joey's gang, then calling the police. He knew that Joey would not be expecting any kind of assault, so Reese would have the element of surprise. Sean gave Reese the address of the house that Joey and his gang used and the layout of the rooms. From his description, it seemed likely that Suze was being held in a back room that had the windows covered over with plywood. According to Sean, Joey had been expanding his business dealings and was moving into the drug trade; still small time but requiring a secure place to keep the stuff until it could be sold. Sean also said that the gang had just started to acquire guns but, as of the time he'd left, they'd only had a couple. Apparently, other gangs were buying up the available weapons, driving the prices up.

"Nice to know that the laws of supply and demand work on the black market as well," Finch commented sardonically after Reese had filled him in. He and Reese then had some discussion about Reese's plan, Reese standing over by the bulletin board again to keep Sean from overhearing. Finch was for just calling the police. After all, he reasoned, they had kidnapped Suze. That was enough for all involved to be arrested. That the young woman would be placed back with her guardian for a few weeks seemed a small thing as long as she was safe.

"About that," Reese said, glancing over to where Sean was sitting. "Sean says Suze's guardian, Cathy, has quite a temper. It's quite possible she'd react to Suze's return very violently."

"How violently?"

"Apparently, when Suze brought home a kitten in defiance of a "no pets" rule, the guardian killed it. Burned it alive."

Finch's silence spoke volumes. When he finally found his voice it was to ask, "What do you need me to do?"

The plan was pretty straightforward. Reese would gain entrance, disarm and secure the people inside and release Suze. There were only five gang members. They would all be together, preparing for their meet with Sean.

"Five people, two guns. No problem."

"Surely, there's more to it than that."

"These guys are barely more than kids. They've no experience in fighting beyond what they picked up in school. Don't worry, Finch. You know I've handled worse."

Reese thought Finch's sigh sounded remarkably like Sarah's. Finch asked, "Where will Sean be?"

"Down the street with the car. I'll bring Suze out and then you can alert the police."

"What do you want me to tell them?"

"I don't know, Finch. Tell them there were shots fired."

"Will there be?"

"Does it matter?"

Reese waited in the car with Sean until nine. It was fully dark and some of the street lights were out, the neighborhood was old, shabby and its occupants kept the curtains drawn, blinds pulled down. No one would see him walking up to Joey's place. Reese walked up the steps, knocked on the faded painted door, and waited, arms hanging loosely at his side. He could hear a commotion on the other side of the door, a confusion of voices and footsteps. The porch light, off when Reese knocked on the door, came on. A face appeared at the window, peering out from behind the curtains. Reese thought it was silent Jerry, from the coffee shop, his eyes taking in Reese and then darting around, looking for others. Reese smiled and raised his hand in greeting. The curtain closed. More commotion. Then silence. The door opened. Jerry again.

Reese smiled. "Hey, hi. I'm John. I'm here to pick up Suze. She ready?"

Jerry stared at him and Reese took advantage of his hesitation, using the door and a taser he'd palmed to disable Jerry and force his way through to the room beyond. From there things went pretty much the way Reese figured it would: he disarmed the guy hiding behind the door, used the butt of that gun to bludgeon two more and then aimed it at the one remaining, still sitting in his chair.

"I'm guessing you're Joey?" The young man nodded, mute, hands up. "I need the key for the room you have Suze locked in." Joey nodded again, fumbling in a front pocket and held out the key, hand shaking. Reese, still holding the gun on him, took it and then threw him a handful of wrist ties. "Here. Put these on your homies, hands behind their backs. Bind their feet, too." That done, Reese bound Joey as well, none too gently. He found the second gun still in Joey's pocket. Leaving all five gang members sitting on the living room floor he went to find Suze.

At the door to the room where Suze was being held, Reese paused for a moment. No doubt she'd heard the noise of the fight, brief though it was, adding to her fear. "Suze? My name is John. Sean sent me to get you." He waited for a moment and opened the door.

The room was dark so Reese had to open the door wide to let the light from the hallway show him the room. He saw a young woman sitting in a chair, bound to it with duct tape, a strip of it covering her mouth. Reese found the light switch and she flinched when the light came on. Her face was red and her left eye and cheek were red and purple, the edges of the contusion turning a sickly green. Strands of her unwashed hair hung over her face. As he cut her from her bonds, he spoke to her, telling her a couple of times that Sean was outside, waiting for her. Her injured eye focused on him so he knew the eye itself wasn't damaged. She never spoke. He helped her up from the chair, steadying her as she got her feet to move, one in front of the other. Reese looked around the room, noting several bundles that looked to be crack sitting on a table next to the door as well as a partial roll of duct tape, which he grabbed as they left the room, his other hand under the young women's arm.

He got her to the door, maneuvering around the ragged bunch on the floor, and had her stand there, leaning against the doorframe for support. Reese then used the duct tape to muzzle all of them with one continuous piece, not being any too careful about hair or how tight it was. One of them, Eddie, started to make a sound of protest until Reese looked at him pointedly.

Reese walked Suze to the car. Sean, seeing them, hastily climbed out and met them on the sidewalk. Reese discreetly turned away while contacting Finch, letting him know that he could call the cops. Finch acknowledged and then asked, "How's the girl?"

Reese turned back towards where the two were standing. They were holding each other silently. Suze still had not made a sound nor did Reese think she was crying. "They beat her, but I don't think there's permanent damage. Not physically, anyway. Time will tell for any other wounds."

"Well, best to get them both out of there. The police should be arriving soon."

Reese had to ask. "Shots fired?"

"Multiple shots," Finch said dryly. "Maybe even a shoot out."

Reese leaned against Sarah's limo and watched from across the street as Sean and Suze brought their few belongings out of a neat row house and loaded them into the back of an SUV. A white haired African-American man whom Sarah identified as Bill, Chuy's friend and Sean's councilor, was 'supervising' the process, standing next to the SUV. Suze was looking much better than she had when Reese saw her a month ago, but that didn't stop both Bill and Sean from helping her with her bags and otherwise being solicitous. She was smiling and chatting with both men, no doubt reassuring them that she was fine. It didn't make a difference in their behavior.

Finch spoke from the back of the limo. "So, Sean will be relocated?"

Reese replied, still watching the trio. "It's part of the rehab process; give them a fresh start. Looks as if Bill's included Suze as well."

Sean closed up the back of the SUV and Bill headed to the driver's side. Sean helped Suze into the front seat on the passenger side and closed the door. He opened the rear passenger door and paused, looking over toward Reese. Sean nodded and raised his hand in farewell and Reese nodded in return. Sean climbed into the back seat and the car pulled away from the curb.

Reese slid into the back seat of the limo next to Finch. He'd been a little surprised when Finch told him that he'd arraigned for Sarah to take them to see Sean and Suze leave, especially since he preferred to keep out of sight. Finch explained that it would be small payment to Sarah; she had asked, after all, that they let her know how things had worked out. Reese had no objections. Sarah had been helpful. It seemed a painless gesture.

Finch was holding a boutonnière, a white rosebud attached to green paper. There was a pin stuck in it that could be used to better secure it to a lapel. Reese and Finch had found them in the limo when Sarah picked them up. She had explained, in answer to Finch's question, that one of Chuy's grandkids was selling them as a school fundraiser, so, of course, Sarah had bought some to give to clients. "You can have them, if you like," she'd said, looking at them in the rear view mirror.

Reese had put his back but Finch had absently continued to hold his. As the limo pulled back into traffic, Sarah spoke, eyes briefly focused on them in the mirror. "I want to thank you both for keeping Chuy safe and letting me know the outcome."

Finch, looking down at the flower, responded, "You're welcome, Sarah." There was silence for a time, as the limo moved through the traffic, retracing the route they had taken earlier. At a park well before the library Finch told Sarah to let them off. She pulled the limo into a passenger loading area, parked and got out of the limo, opening the passenger door for Finch. Reese, sitting on the other side, let himself out and walked around to the driver's side. Finch, naturally slower, was just standing up, and Reese saw something fall to the ground. Sarah stooped to pick it up. It was the boutonnière.

Sarah smiled at Finch, holding the flower. "Would you like for me to pin it on for you?"

"Oh. Yes, please." Finch smiled a little. "I always have problems with those. The angle's awkward."

Reese watched in amazement as Sarah, stepping closer, proceeded to pin the rose to Finch's lapel. At one point, she glanced at Finch and found him looking at her, the small smile still on his face. Surprised, she paused, very briefly holding his gaze and then going back to her task as if nothing had happened. But a small smile of her own appeared, as if she and Finch had just shared a secret. She finished pinning the flower, straightened Finch's lapel then took a small step back.

"There," she said.

Finch glanced down and then looked back at Sarah. "Thank you, Sarah."

She nodded once. "You're welcome." Her words were businesslike but her expression rivaled the Mona Lisa's. "Anything else today?"

"No, that will be it."

Sarah inclined her head in a quick nod, then she looked at Reese. "Goodbye, John."

Reese and Finch walked into the park as the limo pulled away. There was silence between the two men for several steps. Then Reese, not looking at Finch, asked, "What the hell was that, Finch?"

"What was what?" Finch's voice seemed a little distracted.

"That whole thing back there with Sarah."

Finch, turning his torso slightly, briefly looked at Reese. "I don't know what you're talking about, Reese. She was just helping me with the flower."

Reese was silent for a few more yards, studying Finch's profile.

"Looked like a little bit more to it than that."

Finch's reply was typically terse. "I think you're imagining things, Reese. She was just being nice."

They continued their walk to the library in silence, but Reese was sure he saw that small smile on Finch's face the rest of the way.

20


End file.
